


No Walls Handy

by helens78



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Angst, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-08
Updated: 2004-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viggo and Orli want each other, Sean wants Viggo, Harry wants Sean.  Karl and Marton would like all this straightened out so they can get some sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Walls Handy

Up against a wall would be ideal, but there's no wall handy. They're out in the woods on another damn overnight camping impulse, only this time they've got the people who aren't filming along, too. So instead of just Viggo and Orli and the hobbits and Sean, they've got Karl and Harry and Marton along, too. Harry's just sitting on the outside of the circle, tapping at something on his PDA. Karl and Marton are either talking, wrestling, or halfway into foreplay. The hobbits are playing some kind of game involving tigging and togging, and Sean's watching Viggo the way he always does. But Viggo's watching Orli.

And when Viggo and Orli disappear, everyone makes sure not to notice that Sean's expression goes flat and he turns in early.

* * *

Up against a wall would be ideal, but there's no wall handy. There's a tree, though, and Viggo presses Orli into it, shoves him face-first against ragged bark and growls _don't move_ into the back of his neck. And Orli doesn't move, but somehow he's arching anyway, one leg half-curled around the tree already even though Viggo doesn't have Orli's pants down yet. And Viggo laughs at that. _My slut._ And Orli smiles with bared teeth and gasps when Viggo jerks his pants down. He's not going to disagree. Wouldn't dream of disagreeing with that. He's Viggo's slut, his whore, any other name Viggo cares to think up. Anything. Everything. For as long as Viggo wants him.

* * *

"How long's he been hung up on Viggo, then?"

"Since the day Vig got here. Can't blame him," Karl laughs. "I'd do him."

Marton's eyes go back and forth from Sean, asleep and snoring in his sleeping bag, to the path in the woods where Viggo and Orli disappeared.

"But it's getting better?" Marton asks.

Karl just snorts.

* * *

Viggo only gets on his knees for Orli for one reason, and it's not to suck his cock. It's to spread Orli's cheeks and slide his tongue into Orli's cleft, licking up and down until both of Orli's arms grab the trunk and he's got to hang on and bite down hard on his lower lip to keep from crying out.

Viggo would tell Orli to beg, but they're trying not to draw too much attention to themselves. Everyone knows what they're doing; that can't be helped. But they've done their best not to throw it in anyone's faces, and keeping quiet's a part of that.

Keeping quiet's not easy, though, not while Viggo's tongue is working in and out of Orli's ass until Orli's nearly drawing blood from his lower lip trying to stay silent. _So good._ Oh, god, it's so good, and Orli hugs the tree hard, hoping Viggo never stops, hoping he's just about ready to finish rimming him and just _fuck him_ already.

* * *

Sean's an idiot. Or at least, Sean thinks he's an idiot, because it just doesn't make any damned sense to be jealous of something you've never had and don't even know if you'd want. Right now it's just a theory. Sean knows if he asked Viggo and Orli, they'd take him to bed in a heartbeat, and it'd be good, fun, light, easy. He can't bring himself to ask. He's not sure what he wants, but that isn't it.

* * *

_Oh, it's about fucking time._ When Viggo comes off his knees and Orli hears the telltale rip of foil, he presses his head against the bark of the tree and grins. The grin breaks into a gasp and then a growl when Viggo starts working his way inside him, one rough inch at a time, breath warm at Orli's ear.

There are no words here. Just that relentless, torturous breach of Orli's body, and Viggo's fingers tightening on Orli's arms as he makes his way past the resistance.

* * *

Harry sets his PDA down and kicks out of his shoes. He slides into his sleeping bag, grunting a little as he tries to get comfortable and isn't particularly successful. He doesn't know why the hell he let Karl drag him out here, because there's really nothing to do apart from watch Karl and Marton, _not_ watch Viggo and Orli, try not to kill any of the hobbits, and ignore Sean.

Harry ignores Sean the way Sean ignores Viggo and Orli. There's nothing there for him, so he doesn't bother to look. And while he's not looking, he's memorizing every feature of Sean's face, the way his lips curve when he smiles, the way he walks, the sound of his accent early in the morning before he's had his coffee, and the way he squints up at the stars.

* * *

Orli's going to come back from this with scratches against the front of his throat, the side of his cheek. The makeup department's going to kill him all over again. At least this time it's not going to take one of the ears off along with all the scratching. Thank heaven for small favors.

Viggo's fingers are warm on his hips, and Viggo's started the last half-dozen strokes, breath hitching, teeth together. Orli shoves back hard, and Viggo comes, panting and gasping and biting off the rest of his sounds. Orli follows right along with him, half-struggling against Viggo's grip on him and trying not to scream.

* * *

The rustle of trees and snap of twigs wakes Sean up, and it seems like as good an opportunity as any to get up and find somewhere private to answer calls of nature. It's more a call of envy that sends him out of the camp as Viggo and Orli walk back in, but experience has shown that you never pass up an opportunity to have a pint, a piss, a fag or a blow, and right now he might as well have the piss if nothing else.

Harry nods to Viggo and Orli as they come back and settle in, and then there's a boot in the middle of his back. He turns over, glaring up at Karl.

"Stop pining and go after the man, for God's sake," Karl says, shaking his head. "Bad enough watching him look like that. Not going to put up with you doing the same. Go."

Harry's mouth drops open, and he gets it closed fast. He rolls his eyes at Karl, but then he's up and taking after Sean, wondering why he didn't do this months ago.

* * *

Orli and Viggo settle into their sleeping bags -- separate ones; Orli likes to cocoon himself in covers, and there's really no way to do that when you're sharing a sleeping bag with someone -- as Sean takes off and Harry takes off after him. Viggo glances over to Karl and lifts his eyebrows, and Karl shrugs, heads over to Marton, strips down before climbing into the double-width sleeping bag and tucking in.

* * *

Sean's done with his piss, and now he's leaning against a tree and having a fag. The cigarette's glowing bright orange in the darkness, which makes it easy enough for Harry to find him. Follow the scent and the sound and the orange glow, and there's Sean, eyes narrowed and not looking at anything in particular.

"Hey," Harry says, wishing he could think of a better opening than that.

"Hey," Sean replies, wishing Harry'd been like everyone else and was willing to leave him alone.

Not much of a conversation, Harry decides. But he thinks of what Karl would do if he came back after exchanging two words with Sean, and it makes him blurt out the next thing he can think of. "You always wanted the one thing you couldn't have?"

Sean's eyes snap out of their narrowed focus, and he looks startled for a minute before tapping the ash off his cigarette and staring hard at Harry. "Maybe," he admits.

"I know the feeling."

"Yeah?"

"It's easier that way. You don't risk much. Don't have to take your chances and put anything on the line."

"Something like that," Sean says.

"You ever thought about what you'd do if you ended up wanting something you _could_ have?"

And he hasn't. Not until now. But Harry's eyes in the dark and his hands in his pockets look like they want to make an offer, and Sean exhales softly, thinking it over before the offer can get made.

* * *

"Troublemaker," Marton mutters at Karl.

"Am not," Karl says, licking his way up the back of Marton's neck.

"You think Sean's even interested?"

"I think Sean hasn't had anyone since he got here," Karl answers, running his fingers down Marton's side and then settling them on his hip. "Think he'd be an idiot not to at least try for it."

* * *

Up against a wall would be ideal, but there's no wall handy. So Harry braces his hands above his head against the tree and lets Sean slide his hands down Harry's sides. And _oh God_, the man's got a hell of a fine sense of touch. Warm fingers pressing in at all the right spots, warm lick of breath against Harry's ear. "You could have said something sooner," Sean breathes.

"I want what I can't have half the time, too," Harry murmurs back. Sean's hands reaching around to the fly of his jeans -- _God_.

"And the other half?" Sean asks. He's got a condom in his pocket; he unzips his own jeans, slides it on. It's going to be rough; they don't have lube handy. Harry's already said he doesn't mind.

"The other half," Harry whispers, arching back when Sean gets the head of his cock against his opening, "I never know whether I can have it or not, because I don't ask."

"And this time?" One inch. Easy. Breathe. Wait for Harry's body to open. Another inch. There. Good. _Oh, God, it's been too fucking long._

"I don't know, Sean," Harry gasps, trying not to press back, reining in impatience and thinking later he'll tell Sean _it's all right if it hurts, it's worth it_. "You tell me."

* * *

Viggo's got a painting in mind. Or maybe it's a photograph, or a poem. He's not sure yet, but he's got a certain need to create that he didn't come into the woods with. He can hear the whispers, the soft little gasps and grunts, and wonders whether they're being louder or whether he and Orli were just further away. He'd drop his hand to his cock if he hadn't just come; he'd stroke off thinking about Sean's green eyes and his laugh lines. He hopes like hell Sean's getting something he needs from Harry. He makes a mental note to hug Karl later, or at the very least give him a friendly head-butt.

* * *

Sean's hands cover Harry's, lace through his fingers and hold him still. This is better than he expected. Better than lying back and trying not to picture Viggo with Orli, by a considerable stretch. It's good, warm, easy, and none of those things are bad. Not at all.

"Ah, God, Sean," Harry whispers, pressing back against him. "Close... don't stop..."

"Not stopping," Sean whispers back, nuzzling against the side of Harry's neck. "We just got here."

* * *

Marton's made his token protest -- _we're going to get the bag all sticky and then you'll expect me to sleep on the wet spot_ \-- but token protests never last very long with Karl. Karl works two fingers into him, curls his hand around Marton's cock, and it leaves Marton trying very hard not to make a sound while everyone in the camp knows exactly what they're doing.

Marton yelps when Karl bites down on his shoulder, and if it weren't for the fact that Marton's just this side of orgasm, he'd elbow Karl in the ribs for that.

"Come on," Karl growls, and Marton's eyes close while he tries -- succeeding for once -- to stifle the gasp. And he does come, does make a mess, but by God, Karl's going to be sleeping on it tonight.

* * *

Harry groans, fingers clenching under Sean's, and he can't hold out any longer. He comes, cock jerking, staining bark and denim and making his ass tighten up hard around Sean's cock.

And that's too much for Sean. He slams Harry into the tree, harder than before, and comes with a rough growl at the back of Harry's neck.

Absurdly, the first thing out of Harry's mouth is an apology. "God -- Christ -- I'm sorry, Sean," he whispers. "Wanted it to last longer."

Sean works his fingers against Harry's, trying to get the blood to come back to them. "It'll be better next time," he promises.

* * *

Harry heads for his bag when he gets back to the camp and tugs it over to Sean's. He ignores the smirk he gets from Karl, but he takes a small amount of satisfaction when Marton pokes Karl in the shoulder and Karl immediately settles down.

Sean climbs back into his bag when he comes back, and he does catch Viggo watching him. He gives a quiet smile -- an almost apologetic smile -- and sighs as he gets himself tucked in for the night.

Better than watching. It's not half bad being the one being watched.

_-end-_


End file.
